Superficies
by Beauty Mouse
Summary: Murata's life has never been easy, but he's always had his mask to cover that up. Now, his facade is shattering and it's up to Shori to give Murata the help he's always needed. Some Angst. Set after the series ends. Rating may go up.


My first Kyo Kara Maou fic, yay! If you spot errors, please let me know. Oh, and I hold the belief that Murata is his first name, Ken just doesn't suit him.

Why is there no Shori/Murata? I hope I influence better writters because I want some ShorixMurata!!!

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Murata's eyes opened and he gave an exasperated sigh. He made a mental note that this had been his third night, in a row, without sleep. He gently picked up his glasses and slid them on. The Great Sage dressed in his black gakuran and grabbed the blanket. He draped it around his shoulders and pulled it close. The old library in the castle always had a nasty draft. Murata mused that he could always go to the new one Yuuri had built, but he was more accustomed to the old one. There were happier memories in that library which filled Murata with a spiritual warmth that far exceeded the physical lack. He still needed the blanket though; numinous passion only did so much to the flesh. 

The double black Mazoku unlocked his door and ventured into the corridors of the stone citadel. There were few torches lit and no guards about, Murata had requested that, so the halls were very dark. It didn't bother His Highness, he had traveled these passageways many a time, or rather his past lives had. He pulled the blanket around him tighter; sometimes Murata wished he didn't remember anything about his other lives. Dr. Rodriguez had said it was an odd phenomenon, and completely unexpected. Murata surmised that it was therefore unnecessary. It was quite a burden to carry memories that weren't his; it was difficult enough carrying the ones that he had experienced.

Murata could say proudly that he never stuffed foreign objects into his mouth, burned his hand on the stove, or any other silly mistakes a child makes when they are still learning. Murata had to pause a moment, he put his hand to his forehead and groaned softly. Another migraine. He made a mental note that this was his fifth migraine this week. Jose had said to contact him if he started experiencing headaches of that caliber, perhaps he should call once they returned to Earth. After several lengthy, excruciating minutes, Murata was able to tolerate the dull throb in his head and continue to the athenaeum. He shivered as he walked and then a gust of wind blew out one of the torches. Murata nearly jumped in the dark and let out a quiet gasp. His eyes had automatically locked on the unlit beacon. His heart slowed and he strode quickly to the doorway of the library. It had a grand, but very heavily aged entryway. Large doors that had once been coated in gold leaf, Murata recalled, and had wonderful carvings of legendary creatures. Yuuri's new library was nothing compared to the grandeur of this one. Times had been different then though. Riches were more common then, and beauty exceeded the importance of efficiency.

Murata softly pushed open the door while his other hand kept the comforter around his shoulders.

Shori was sure he heard a noise this time. He quickly dressed and donned his glasses before leaving to investigate. Earlier he had perceived a soft groan, this time it sounded more like the creaking of a door. If was an intruder trying to assassinate Yuuri there would be hell to pay. Shori was almost running, which was rather foolish considering he had no idea where the noise had come from and there were fewer and fewer torches in this passage. Shibuya slowed down and placed his hand against the wall, the torches were unlit and there were no guards. He didn't see any bodies but he was still worried for Yuuri's safety. Eventually he came to a large door, he could hear scuffing and a few small grunts from inside. Shori gently opened the door and snuck inside. He spotted Murata in the very back, and watched him.

The young boy struggled to pick up his blanket and weakly called, "Who's there?" Shori noticed how small Murata seemed. He watched his brother's friend curiously; he had definitely lost the quirky confidence he seemed to have. In place of what Shori suspected as mischief there was a look of fear in his eyes. Murata seemed very vulnerable here.

"Hello?" The Great Sage tried once more, "Please, is someone there?" His voice seemed panicked. Shori remained watching from behind the bookcase. Murata nervously bit his bottom lip and struggled to find a silhouette in the dark. He swallowed and turned to the bookshelf. Murata reached up with one hand as his other held the blanket around his shoulders. He closed his eyes, stood on his toes and again attempted to grab the book. The book rested on a shelf just above his grasp. Murata's fingers grazed the bottom the book and he tried with fervor to pull the book off the shelf. Shori smiled lightly in amusement, he inaudibly crept behind Murata and pulled out the book easily.

"This one?" Shori asked. Murata's eyes were wide behind his glasses, his mouth even opened slightly.

"Y-yes," he replied. Shori handed the book to his brother's friend. "Thank you, Sh- brother of my friend." Murata corrected himself his eyes cast downwards. Shori glanced at him, and his eyes carefully studied the so-called Great Sage's face.

"You're welcome, Murata." Shori said. In that simple utterance of his name, Murata knew that permission had been given to address each other by their names. Shori realized how cold it was in the old library.

"What are you doing up so late?" Murata asked and drew the blanket closer around himself.

"I heard a noise and decided to check it out." Shori answered, "What about you?"

"Oh, sorry, I was trying to be quiet." Murata ignored the last question. His insomnious tendencies didn't need to be brought up. Murata walked over to one of the large chairs and sat curled up, much like a small child would. He set the book down on the small table next to him.

"Yuuri's getting married next week," Murata stated though Shori, and everyone else, knew, "how do you feel about that?"

"He's too young to be getting married," Shori scoffed and sat across from Murata.

"He's old enough to run Shin Makoku," Murata countered politely, "what do you think of Wolfram though?"

"I think he's an arrogant brat, not good enough for Yuuri."

"Shibuya is something special," Murata baited.

"Yes, he's too good for anyone." Shori agreed.

"Does that mean he can't love anyone?" Murata asked, sounding completely genuine. He pushed up his glasses and Shori grit his teeth angrily.

"It's late, you should go to bed." Shori said sternly as he stood up. He could feel Murata's eyes on his back as he walked out of the athenaeum.

"_I can walk by myself!"_

"_Shori! I'm not a baby!"_

Shori recalled that not too long ago he had attacked Yuuri, and his brother had held his own. For the first time Shori didn't wonder if he could have killed Yuuri, but if Yuuri could have killed him. Memories by the thousands came pouring through. Each one of them bringing the horrible truth closer.

Yuuri didn't need his help.

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Please let me know what you think. CC is ardently desired!

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